


Let This Moment be the First Chapter

by Wrote_My_Own_Deliverance



Series: Like You Need it To Survive [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens Fluff, Bottom John, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay John Laurens, Human Disaster Alexander Hamilton, LYNITS, M/M, Past Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Reconciliation, Shameless Smut, Top Alexander Hamilton
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-06-21 12:52:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15558120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrote_My_Own_Deliverance/pseuds/Wrote_My_Own_Deliverance
Summary: The sequel to Like You Need it to Survive. Alexander is starting to trust, believe that maybe he's worth some good, but John? Isn't John too good? Maybe, but that won't stop Alexander from trying.





	1. Chapter 1

It had been almost four months since our trip to South Carolina. Cooler winter weather settled into the New York City air. In the months since our trip that ended in the plague, we'd gotten closer, settled into a coziness with each other. We worked on most projects at work together, his pictures giving breath to my words… once it became clear that we were together we got to sit through a lengthy HR lecture and sign about a million pieces of paperwork in legal jargon agreeing that we wouldn't sue the Post if shit ended badly between us or that we wouldn't fuck in the copy room, so far we'd held up one half of that agreement…hey,  _no one's being sued_.

Most nights my apartment went unused, spending more time at John's. I'd grown closer with Lafayette and Hercules, embracing the idea of friendship as much as I could. Accepting that just maybe I was worthy of some good things, or even if I wasn't worthy of it, there'd been enough of a glitch in the Matrix for some goodness to fall into my lap.

At John's persuasion, I'd started therapy about two months ago, starting to unpack some of my shit, it was slow going and I still didn't hold out much hope, I'd put my foot down when anxiety medication was suggested, reminding the therapist that James Bonsack didn't invent a cigarette-making machine for me to take anxiety medication,  _pry my smokes from my cold, dead hands._

John had gotten home from South Carolina last night, he'd said it was his first time home for Thanksgiving in four years, I hadn't seen him since he'd left... _I missed him_. I couldn't swing the time off and grudgingly joined Hercules and Lafayette at a 'friendsgiving' at their apartment with a few of their work colleagues.

My phone rang, the ringtone John set for himself to differentiate his calls from intrusions by the rest of the world, he'd made me promise to answer my phone when he called, at least text him that I was busy, or couldn't talk, or didn't want to, said it stressed him out when he couldn't get a hold of me. I answered this time.

"Sup?" I asked, tearing my eyes away from my computer screen, the after image of staring at the glowing text for too long printing itself on the wall.

"Can I come over? I missed you."

"Missed you, too. Come on over, or well, I'm pretty close to done with what I'm doing, I can just come over."

"Nope, wanna come to you."

This was unusual, John was a creature of habit, preferred the comfort of his own place most of the time, couldn't say I blamed him as I looked at the plaster peeling in the corner of my kitchen.

"O-Okay, yeah, sure, see you soon."

He hung up and I put on the kettle for him,  _I own a tea kettle now. That's a thing. Tea's dumb, like fake coffee, but he likes it._

By the time he arrived, the tea was done steeping, I'd perfected the time to a science. He squeezed me tight, his taller frame melting into me, he inhaled deeply, I held him, only then realizing how much I'd missed him, the amber smell of his cologne with the clean scent of his laundry detergent, the strawberries in his hair, his warmth, how conveniently we fit together. I pulled back and offered him his tea, realizing only then how sad he looked.

"What's the matter?" I tucked my feet under his thigh, knees to my chest on the couch.

I watched his jaw muscles work as he gnawed at his cheek.  _He's leaving me. Wised up, spent the week with Jem telling him all the reasons I'm a piece of shit, Martha reminding him he could do better._  I swallowed the panic,  _it was only a matter of time before it happened._

"Laf's moving out." He said it slowly, like each word caused him pain.

I dropped my head against the couch, consumed by relief that I could still claim him, "oh, thank God."

"What?"

"No-nothing, sorry, I'm sorry. I, uh, wow…that sucks."

My head spun with relief, I'm more attached to him than what makes any good sense, but I guess that's love.

"Yeah, him and Hercules finally want to get a place together. Wanna move to Hell's Kitchen, and start their lives together, I guess...We've lived together for like eight or nine years, though, except for right after my mom died. He's my best friend, so I mean, yeah, I'm happy for him, but he's my best friend and I'm never gonna see him now. No more staying up for 'just one more episode,' no more flour fights when he's trying to bake because I think it's funny that it takes him forever to get it out of his hair, no more getting drunk on Wednesday nights just because we have nothing better to do, no more reenacting Les Miserables because he likes to sing it in French and I like to make barricades out of every couch cushion and pillow in the house. No more of any of that." His eyes were swimming. As I basked in relief that he was still  _mine,_  staying with me I could understand why Lafayette wanted to move in with the man he loved, spend every possible moment together. The thought of being without him was dizzying.

I leaned over and held him to me, sliding him against my chest so he fit between my legs, kissed his hair, "querido, he's still going to be your best friend."

"I know, I'm just… scared that I'm gonna be left behind, that he's gonna move away and forget all about me, out of sight, out of mind." The tears were real now, breaking through his lashes like they were pillow-fort barricades.

"No one can forget about you, John. Especially not him, he's your best friend. Fuck, I was jealous of him for a long time because of how much he loves you."

Tears and laughter coincided into a hiccupy cacophony and John turned to look at me, tearful eyes crinkled by the smile on his lips, "you were jealous… of Laf?"

Embarrassment flushed my cheeks and I bit my lip, looking at the ground, "yeah, how could I not be? You're like each other's other half, I didn't think there was a place for me."  _Corny as hell._

"Oh, my God, babe. That's, whew, that's hilarious. I mean, not-not that you were jealous, but that you thought that Lafayette could-" he choked off with laughter, but quickly composed himself seeing me still staring at the ground, "no, he's my best friend, but no, not even a little bit."

I relaxed a little bit and my mind started churning, focusing on the practical, and trying to decide how mad I was at the Frenchman for making my John -  _mine, not his_  - upset, "so when are they moving?"

"They want to by Christmas... we've spent every Christmas together."

I stroked his hair, "I'm sure you still can. He's not moving back to France or anything."

"I know, but he'll want to spend it with Herc, which I get, I'm not a selfish asshole, I just… it's weird and new and different."

"We'll spend Christmas together." I consoled him, rubbing his neck.

"Yeah?"

"I mean, if not I'm gonna be here drinking and eating Chinese takeout alone like every other year so, yeah, I figure, I don't have plans in the way." I ribbed.

"Alone on Christmas?"

"Yup."

"Every year?"

"Yup."

This made the tears start again and he leaned into me, holding tightly, comforting me, I didn't need comfort,  _facts are facts, and when you don't have family and don't have friends, one fact is you're alone for Christmas._

"Well, you're never gonna spend another Christmas alone again."

I smiled at him and smoothed his hair, my mind turned back to the practical, "so is your lease up next month?"

"No, why?"

"Well, it's pretty shitty of him to just bail on you. I mean, your place can't be cheap."

He shrugged, "we haven't figured out all the details yet, but I'm not worried about it, my dad's-"

"Your orphan money."

"Gah, I wish you wouldn't call it that."

"Inheritance sounds too pompous, you're so not that, I taste bile when I hear the word inheritance, or ugh, worse yet, trust fund."

"But I do have a trust fund, Alex, I get it in a couple years."

"Ack, blegh, rich people." I shuddered and pulled a face.

He rolled his eyes, "okay, my dad's life insurance policy, uh, I don't know what else to call the rest of it, it's an inheritance."

"Orphan money."

Another eye roll, "whatever, that money means I can still live there, no problem."

"Still think it's shitty of him to just bail on you."

"Well, I mean he mentioned that he could keep paying rent until the lease is up and I figure out what I'm gonna do."

"What do you think you're gonna do?"

"I don't know, I like where I live, but it's a little much for just me."

"You can make his room a studio, or a darkroom." I tried to get him excited at the prospect of more space.

His lips twitched, "that could be kind of cool, but I was thinking it could be an office."

"I mean, isn't a studio like the artist's equivalent of an office?"

"For artists, yeah, but not for writers, writers get offices, er- studies?"

"Semantics. But, John, you don't write, hell, your linguistic prowess is sending texts with spelling errors, they make autocorrect for a reason."

"Ouch, but if you shut up a minute, I think I should make it a study because I want it to be your study-"

I cut him off, "-okay, that seems a little ridiculous, don't you think? I'm over there a lot, but if anything it should be-"

It was his turn to cut me off, "-Alexander, I want it to be your study because I want it to be your home. I've got the room, Lafayette gets to live with the man he loves, I want to, too, will you move in with me?"

My mouth fell open, I closed it, but like a broken hinge it fell open again, "pause. Cigarette."

He smiled knowingly and patted my knee as I got up to go outside, "you can smoke in here, love, it smells like smoke all the time in here anyway."

"Fresh air." I explained and slipped out the door.

I crouched against the struts of the fire escape and took a steeling breath, lighting my smoke with shaky hands. In twenty minutes I'd gone from thinking he was leaving me to him asking me to live with him.  _The fuck do you do with that?_ My head cleared with the assistance of the nicotine and after the cigarette burned to the filter I took a deep breath, smoothed out my clothes and went back inside, John was just waiting on the couch, phone in hand, scrolling instagram, he smiled at me. I settled back against him.

"So what do you say?" he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

"I… I don't think I can pull my weight. John, your place is a little out of my tax bracket."

"Well, Laf's gonna pay until the lease is up and we'll go from there."

"I don't want you for your money." My cheeks burned as I tore at a scab on my lip with my teeth, licking away the copper taste I drew, wincing at the pain of tearing more than just the scab away.

"I never thought that, I just want to be with you. It's not about the money."

"It's easy for it to 'not be about money' when you're the one with money."

"I'm not on the other side of this, but I promise it doesn't matter to me. I just want you. So?"

"I… Okay." I licked at the bloody spot on my lip.

"Yeah?" He grinned.

"Okay, my lease isn't up till summer, though, so, logistically, I don't know how that's gonna pan out, fuck, I can barely afford this shithole."

"We can make this my studio!"

"What?"

He tucked his knees under him and started gesticulating like a drowning child, "yeah, yeah, yeah, your bedroom can be my darkroom cause it's the perfect size, and then out here I can set up a drafting table and some easels. That way we aren't wasting it, and that should make you feel better about me covering rent at our place, because you're the one paying for  _my_  studio."

I mulled it over, "that's… that's actually perfect, that seems reasonable. Fair."

He attacked me in a hug, "Alex, I'm so excited," he cupped my face, "this is good."

"It is good." I nodded and smiled, nuzzling his neck.


	2. Chapter 2

John had been melancholy, not his usual chipper self. Lafayette and Hercules found a place in Hell's Kitchen and they were moving in the morning, a week earlier than anticipated. I was going to move in with John this weekend. In the combination of households it was decided that Lafayette would leave most of the furniture behind and they'd use Herc's and obviously we'd get rid of my stuff and use what was at John's…  _our_ apartment. I hadn't all the way come to terms with the loss of autonomy. I'd been on my own for almost a decade and I love John, but I love having my own space to retreat to. To go radio silent for a day or two when I need to get work done or when I'm pissed off or sad. I was nervous to let him see all of those things. I hadn't lived with anyone since college and even that was just a crash pad, I stayed so busy that I never really saw my roommates, not even my college boyfriend. Alone was my normal, and here I was giving that up.

My apartment was in boxes around me, couch already hauled to the dumpster, the handiwork of John and Hercules. I was struggling to focus on my work with John's stream of consciousness text messages flooding my phone. The buzz a steady heartbeat on my desk. I lit a smoke and rubbed my eyes, checking the texts that had been coming in at supersonic speed.

**He's all packed.**

**This sucks.**

**It looks empty in here.**

**I think I found the perfect desk for you.**

**I'm excited for this weekend.**

**You're stuck with me after that. ;)**

**Are you working?**

**Are you made?**

***made**

****mad**

**See thia is why I dont use autocorrect.**

***this**

**Sorry. I'll stop texting you. I know your trying to work.**

**I love you.**

I unpacked all of the messages and texted him back.

**Sorry it sucks. I bet it's a great desk, just don't waste too much money on it. I'm already stuck with you, aren't I? Yes, I'm working. No, I'm not mad. Autocorrect is your friend. I love you too.**

The three little dots signifying him writing his response hit instantly.

**What are you working on?**

I responded.

**Little story about Amazon killing Christmas shopping. Photo request will probably hit your desk by Friday.**

… he was typing.

**Fun. Are you still coming over to help tomorrow?**

I'd agreed to help Lafayette move, even though it was implied that I'd mostly be there to keep John happy and out of the way.

**I'll be there. Probably about 9, should I bring some of my stuff?**

I'd been taking loads to John's…  _our_ apartment, one suitcase at a time. There wasn't too much left. I didn't have a lot to begin with, but it would be less for the movers to contend with on Saturday.

**Yeah. See you then. Get back to work. Night.**

I sent him a goodnight and tried to calm his mind. Tomorrow would be hard on him.

Sleep did not find me easily. I started at the ceiling, frustrated, everything was changing for everyone. No consistency to cling to, no branch to grab, just the swirl of chaos. I got back up and kept working, hoping that John would get used to my long hours. When it was just us spending time together, it was easier to shirk responsibilities, but full time, I still had shit to do. I'd still keep odd hours, no matter the level of domesticity.

My alarm startled me, I flung myself out of bed and tripped into a box, barely able to right myself. I got dressed and threw some shit in my suitcase, not even sure what I was grabbing. It didn't matter. It was all going anyway. I dressed myself quickly and poured a cold cup of coffee into my travel mug. Tied back my hair and shoved my feet into some Vans. On the subway I sent John an 'on my way' text.

I hauled my suitcase into his…  _our_ building, grateful for the elevator, it would be way easier moving Lafayette out than moving me in. When I got upstairs it was ordered chaos, Lafayette was snapping at Hercules to be careful and John was flitting around rearranging boxes and keeping himself busy.

"Hey." I waved to the room.

"Morning, babe." John kissed me.

"Hey." Hercules fist bumped me.

"I am so glad you are here, kidnap John, we could all use coffee, please both of you go?" Lafayette's smile was tight, eyes wide, hair slipping out of his ponytail in a disarray around his face, tight curls stuck to his face with sweat.

"C'mon, that's our queue." I put a shepherd's hooking arm around John and pulled him to the door.

"You sure you don't need me?" John tried to pull away.

"Promise." Lafayette smiled and reached out for John's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"You won't leave until I come back?"

"No, I will still be here."

We left the apartment, John finally accepting my arm around him, nuzzled against me as we waited for the elevator.

"You alright?" I asked him.

He nodded, "it's weird."

"It is, but you're okay."

"It's just, I, well, you get it… We moved here together, big city, big change from his sleepy French town, and well, you've seen where I lived in South Carolina. We made this city ours. I just, it's so different. But I have you, and you know the city even more than me, and we'll have our special places and traditions and stuff."

"We will. It will be good." I hoped I sounded reassuring as I smiled up at him.

The rest of the day was long and taxing, despite the chill in the air, our four bodies ran with sweat as we loaded the moving pod, once the truck picked it up we were exhausted and starving. I volunteered to pick up dinner between apartments, Lafayette refused vehemently, insisting that pizza had to be delivered to and eaten at the new apartment, John agreed that it's a christening ritual. Hercules and I shrugged. We sat in a circle on the floor of the mostly empty apartment and ate our dinner on the floor, pizza in the middle.

Lafayette finished his piece and leaned heavily against Hercules, he'd shed his hoodie and shirt, looking the most pedestrian I'd ever seen him in just a tank top.

"Alright, guys. Let's get this shit over with." Hercules adjusted his headband, looking rather karate kid.

We all grudgingly got up and started the journey down two flights of stairs, John protested the lack of an elevator. I reminded him that elevators weren't the norm, certainly not staffed ones. Laf made a comment that he didn't mind the stairs since it would make his ass look good, Hercules slapped it on the way outside in agreement. I hoisted a side table and watched in terror as John and Hercules finagled the sectional around the staircases. Lafayette watched and swore in French. I couldn't help but chuckle at the colourful bouquet of profanity he was orally arranging. It was long dark by the time we were finished, muscles aching and cramping, fingers numb from the chill, damp with sweat, but cold nonetheless. John and I bid the men farewell and a happy first night and we left, taking the fifteen minute subway ride to  _our_ apartment. By this point even I was grateful for the elevator. We threw ourselves at the couch and rested, too tired to move, too disgusted by ourselves to go to bed.

"Just think, we get to do it all over again in two days." John remarked.

"It won't be nearly as bad, there's just a handful of boxes, I'm down to a duffel bag of clothing."

"But you only brought over two little suitcases of clothes." John furrowed his brow.

"Yeah, that's it." I shrugged.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I have like three pairs of jeans, handful of shirts, couple pairs of sweats and a few hoodies, like 12 pairs of boxers, dozen socks."

He stared in shock, "that's like nothing."

"I'm poor, remember."

"I just… I guess you are?"

"It's not a question, querido, it just is."

"I'm glad you don't have to worry anymore."

I looked at the ground, "I still don't want a hand out."

He was too tired to be properly exasperated with me and just sighed, "Alex will you stop. It brings me joy to spend my dad's dirty, shitty money on you. On us."

That thought helped marginally.

"...okay, need shower." He grumbled and forced himself to stand.

After his shower I took one, finding him in bed afterwards, talking on the phone.

"Do you like it? ...You're sleeping on the floor? Allen wrenches… uh, I'll look. I hope you like it once you have a bed... You guys didn't buy food? Do you want to all go get breakfast in the morning? ...I can go in late."

He was twirling a wet strand of hair around his finger like a high school girl, the rest of the damp curls dripped on his bare chest and down to his pillow. I sat on the bed next to him and retrieved the lotion from his side table, pumped some into my hands and moved his hair to the side to massage his shoulders, he leaned back into my touch, his body relaxing. I could hear Laf monologuing through the phone and took John's lull in conversation as an opportunity to kiss a trail down from his ear to his neck and back, still rubbing his tired shoulders. He pushed against my body and shot a glance at me through his lashes.

"Okay… Good luck. Call me tomorrow… Yup… Good night… I will." He hung up the phone, "you're such a fucking tease."

I laughed into the nape of his neck, running my tongue against his hairline, he shivered, "what are you gonna do about it?" I growled into his hair.

"Probably take some aspirin and go to bed, but I'll have really sexy dreams about you and almost certainly wake up incredibly sexually frustrated."

I stretched my own tired body, "hook a brother up with some of that aspirin, though."

He rooted in his nightstand and produced a small pill bottle. We each took a palmful and then cuddled into each other, too beaten and worn to do anything but hold one another.

"I'm glad you're here tonight." He whispered.

"Me too, and every night." I kissed him in the darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

My move had been uneventful. Painfully easy by comparison of moving Lafayette out. In our week of cohabiting, nothing much had changed. John was right about the desk he'd found, it  _was_  perfect, dark wood, and bookcases on either side behind it. Lafayette's old bedroom became my refuge, a space for me as it slowly turned into a study. I melded into life with John. We were adapting to each other's idiosyncrasies. Laf still spent a good deal of time over, but his and Herc's company was pleasant and I found myself looking forward to it.

I was up late, trying to finish a piece that was purely meaningless drivel. There was a tap at the door, I checked the time, it was after two in the morning, and looked up from the book I was reading and invited John in. He held two bowls.

"Cereal break?" He offered a bowl of cocoa puffs to me and perched on the edge of my desk.

I took the bowl and closed my book.

"Thanks."

"What are you working on?" He eyeballed the book I'd been reading.

"Oh, I was just taking a little mental detour, just reading for a few minutes, working up the gumption to finish my draft. This story I'm working on's particularly facile."

He set his bowl down and picked up the book inspecting it like it might hurt him, "Alex, this is one of my dad's old law textbooks. You're reading this for...fun?"

"Well, yeah. I hadn't picked one up for a while."

"A law book?"

"Yeah. Didn't you know I double majored in journalism and pre-law?"

"You did? I just knew about the journalism part."

"No, I was gonna do the lawyer thing, but by the time I got my degree I was sinking in student loans and was able to find a decent journalism job, the rest is history."

John stared at me unblinking, "damn, you just get more amazing at every given opportunity. So you sometimes just read textbooks?"

I shrugged, "looked interesting. You're the one who put it on my bookshelf."

"Well, yeah, but I didn't think you'd ever just read it," he laughed and started eating his cereal, "it looks all 'grown up study,' but I figured it'd be more like a prop." he told me around a mouthful of cocoa puffs.

"You going to bed soon? I can probably be done working for tonight, Adams doesn't need this until the afternoon."

"We can go to bed if you're ready."

We finished our snack and got ready to go to sleep, still learning the best way to make our night time routine more compatible. In bed John turned the lights out and wrapped me in his arms, he started to play with my hair, I pushed his hand away.

"Don't, I'm gross, I meant to take a shower today, but I got stuck on that fucking article, my hair's disgusting."

He dropped his hand to my hip, tracing the bone. We both fell asleep quickly.

In the morning John was still sleeping when I left him, out the door later than I wanted to be, still unshowered. I drafted more of the story on the ride to work, putting the finishing touches on it once I got to the office. I fired it off to Adams and received an email back almost immediately requesting to see me in his office.  _Great, another meeting that should just be an email, that's why they made email._

I refractorily made my way to his office.

"Mr. Hamilton." His tone was curt.

"Adams."

"Have a seat."

_Oh great, whatever this is is gonna take for-fucking-ever._

"Alexander, you know that paper news is trending down, our paper, once a leading source of news for the whole country and like so many others in league with our publication it's fading into obscurity. That's been the trend since even before you were hired, you've been instrumental in keeping material current and interesting," he smiled, trying to make a joke, "not bad for a Creole bastard." His joke fell flat.

"What is this about?"

"Mr. Hamilton, in order to keep the Post alive, we need to strengthen our accessibility to online consumers, you know we've worked on shortening article length and adding more visual elements, but unfortunately we're having to restructure," I tasted bile as he spoke, "part of restructuring is that we can't keep everyone. Alexander I'm sorry, and I thank you for all you've done for the Post, but we have to let you go. It's just not in the budget. You're a damned good writer, but we need a team who makes more digestible content. That's just not you. Go to HR, they'll discuss your severance."

I saw red and gripped the chair before flinging myself out of it. He started to hoist himself out of his own chair to shake my hand, I leaned over the table and sneered. "Sit down, John, you fat motherfucker. Funny isn't it, I'm the one who gets canned, but let me ask this: who sits at your desk when you're in Massachusetts? You nuisance with no sense. Keep your fucking severance! What, a week's pay for me to sign a non-disparagement agreement? Forget that, I'm gonna disparage the fuck out of you, your shitty severance package won't make me change my mind. At least I did my job up in this rumpus!" I turned on my heel and walked to the door before wheeling back around to flip him off with both hands as I backed out of his office.

I stomped back to my cubicle and threw what little of my personal effects I had accumulated into my messenger bag and stomped out of the office, rode the elevator alone and stormed out of the building.  _Need a fucking drink._ I smoked a cigarette on the way to the subway.  _Fuck._

_Fuck._

_What do I do now?_

I leaned forward in the hard plastic seat on the train, elbows on my knees, head in my hands, stringy hair falling in my face.

_What do I do?_

_Fuck._

I made it to Sofrito and ordered a whiskey neat. Miguel looked at my face and left the bottle. I downed two fingers and poured myself more, dragging a journal and pen out of my satchel and started working, pen cap between my teeth. By the time I'd emptied myself of words, the once half full bottle was empty. I closed my journal and put it back away, seeing the notification light flashing on my phone. Messages from John.  _John. Fuck._

**Lunch?**

**Where'd you go?**

**Did you leave?**

**Are you sick?**

I shoved my phone back in the bag and drew out my wallet.

"This one's on me, looked like you need it." Miguel dried a glass.

I left a ten on the bar anyway and walked out. The air held a chill and flurries spun in the wind. I took the subway to our apartment, feeling drunker than I realized.  _At least I feel empty, too._  The hot rage had dissipated, logic crept in around my fuzzy edges. Maybe I should have taken the severance package, at least help a little before I just mooch off of John.  _Dammit, freeloader, he's gonna leave, gonna finally think it's all about the money._  I tasted blood and realized how hard I'd been biting my lip.

Back at the apartment I locked myself in my study, a study that I no longer needed. I opened the window in the small room and chain smoked the rest of the pack.  _Christ._

Finally, the door opened, I winced at the sound of it shutting, bracing myself for the conversation to be had.

"Alex?" John called, "babe? Are you home?"

"I-" my voice caught, "I'm in here."  _Shitshitshit._

He opened the door and worry knit his brows together as he shed his winter layers.

"Hi, babe, where'd you go earlier? Are you okay?" he sniffed the air, "are you smoking in here? I thought we agreed, never mind, are you alright?"

I steeled myself, the drunkenness from earlier had settled into a headache, "...John, I…" I hung my head, my hair curtaining my face, I angrily gripped it, tossing it out of the way. I ran a hand over my face, tugging at my goatee. John crouched beside my chair, hands on my knees.

"What is it, babe?"

The heavy breath I let out fluttered the ringlets that had slipped out of his ponytail around his face, "I got fired."

He put his head in my lap and hugged my thighs, "oh, Alex. Darlin', I'm sorry." His accent slipping just a little.

"Do you want me to go?"

"What? Don't be ridiculous. Why'd they fire you? Because of us?"

"No, apparently I don't make digestible enough content."

"Bullshit," he reached up and stroked my cheek, "you're the best writer I know."

"Guess not."

"Don't beat yourself up, babe."

I shrugged, "I'm gonna start looking, find something, I'll figure out how to pull my weight."

"Alex, I'm not worried about it."

"I am. What, now you have to pay rent for two places?"

"Alexander, it doesn't matter. None of that matters, I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine."

"I don't believe you." He was grinning, knew me too well.

"Well, I am." I bluffed, my body tensing.

"You want to be alone, don't you?"

I shrugged.

"I'll let you be. Be in the other room when you want me." He stood up and kissed the top of my head.

With John on the other side of the door, I knew he'd call Laf, and within ten minutes the only friends I had would know what a colossal fuck up I was.  _Colossal._

I picked back up writing my hatred out for Adams. Piece of garbage.  _He wishes he had an ounce of the talent that I do._ Once I filled that journal I stopped, opening my computer to draft an email to one of my old college freelance contacts.  _Gotta pull my weight._ I opened a new pack of cigarettes and started smoking while I waited for a reply, blatantly ignoring the 'don't smoke in the house' rule we'd agreed upon.

At about two a.m. John came and collected me, insisting that I could wallow more tomorrow. I disagreed, but let him drag me to our bed where I stared at the ceiling while he slept. I watched the sun rise through the window until his alarm went off, usually I was gone by now. He woke up and saw that I was awake.

"It's nice having you still in bed." He snuggled up to me.

"Yeah." I sighed, too tired to say much else.

"I'm gonna go to the gym before I go to work, want to come with me? It's a good stress reliever."

"I'm good. I'm gonna lay here all day, like a lazy welfare queen."

"Stop it, you'll find a new job, it hasn't even been 24 hours."

I rolled my eyes and he got up and dressed for the gym, tossing work clothes into his duffel bag. I watched from under the covers. He kissed me goodbye. It took three more hours before my bladder won the war of attrition and I stomped off to the bathroom. On my way back to the bedroom I detoured by the freezer, Lafayette had left some fruity vodka.  _Good enough._ I took the bottle back to bed. Frost clung to the window, thawing in the middle in rainy streaks as I drank.

John was at work. John who had money, and didn't need to work, I was day drinking. John was supporting our household, I was in my pajamas. John was making a name for himself, I was watching pigeons fly outside. I got up and went outside - taking the duvet, wrapped around me - and started smoking. I stared out at the city, people in high rises, working. Doing jobs. Having jobs. Nope. Not Alexander Piece-of-Shit Hamilton. Alexander Piece-of-Shit Hamilton day drinks and chain smokes in a blanket.

After a few smokes I lost the feeling in my fingers and trudged to my study, checked my email, Nathanael Greene, old college professor had emailed my back. I scanned it, laughing at myself for turning down the secretarial position he'd offered me a few years ago, insisting I was going to do something more important, make a name for myself.  _Stupid._ He let me know about an upstart blog he was aware of that was looking for an editor, make some cash there. I emailed the contact he gave me.  _Here's hoping._


	4. Chapter 4

John got home and found me in my study, still in my pajamas, still wrapped in the duvet, still staring at my email inbox… waiting for work to come in. Waiting for anything to come in.

"Come on out, Alex, let's go do something."

I tightened my grip on the blanket, "go away."

He leaned against the door frame, "yeah, not gonna happen. I love you too much to let you keep doing this. Come on."

I shook my head and shifted down further in the chair.

"Alex, baby, come on, when's the last time you ate or moved or did anything other than drink coffee. It's been over a week." His eyes met the uneaten plate of breakfast he'd left me this morning before he went to work, still sitting on the corner of my desk.

I shrugged and he closed the distance between us, my sense of panic intensifying, everything telling me to run. He ran his fingers through my hair and pulled my head into his waist.

"John…" I started, not entirely sure where I wanted the sentence to end, he stopped me.

"Shh. Come here, the sad part is over. The wallowing part is over. Let's go and kick some ass. It's time for the angry part to come back."

"I don't want to."

"I know. But it's time, let's go. You need a shower, babe. Step one. We can do step one."

_Shower... Mist. Rain. Water. Wet. Wind. Storm. Hurricane. Mama. Fire. Smell. Sick. Wet. Water. Rain. Mist._ My breathing sped up and I dug my nails into my hands, "no, no, no. I can't."

"Alexander, come on, love. Real quick."

I held back the urge to flee and let him escort me to the bathroom, he peeled the duvet away from me and bunched it up in the hallway. He turned on the shower, the pipes creaking as they filled, the sound of the water hitting the porcelain made a lump settle in my throat.

"Clothes off, let's do this," he rubbed my arm and looked at me sympathetically, adding with a grin, "I'll join you."

I was frozen, caught sight of myself in the mirror, scraggly stubble grew across my face, cheeks gaunt and sunken, bruise-purple under my eyes, creases in my forehead, hair in greasy strings, dandruff settled into the center partline. I was hard to look at.

John was still rubbing my arm, I had tuned him out but refocused, "what do you say, Alexander, easy way or hard way?"

With the shred of dignity I had I pulled my shirt off, not oblivious to the smell, and let it fall to the floor, I shed my pants as well.

"There ya go, well done, alright, come on." John stepped into the shower, now nude himself and offered a hand to me, I took it and stepped in, as far from the showerhead as I could be. He closed the curtain.

"I can take a shower by myself." I reminded him, voice acidic.

"I know you can, but I want to be with you. That okay?" he dropped his head back and let the water run over his face and hair. I swallowed hard, watching the droplets bounce off his skin and splash onto me. I recoiled at the sensation.  _Mist. Rain. Water. Wet._

He lathered his strawberry shampoo into his hair and I felt my tension lose some of its footing, finally able to catch a full breath. John reached out a wet hand to me and I shied away from his touch.

"Your turn, love."

I nodded and let him slide his slick body past me as we traded places with each other, he ran his hand across my chest. The water hit, stinging like needles.  _Mist. Rain. Water. Wet._  My breath caught and my knees quaked. He was encircling me. I tried to slow my breathing, panicking, couldn't breathe.  _Water. Can't breathe? Drowning?_ I exhaled and realized the burn in my chest wasn't from drowning, but from holding my breath too long.

John was crooning in my ear, "okay, okay, you're safe. I gotcha, darlin', all okay. Alexander, hey, listen, you're alright."

I was drenched and leaned into his touch, convinced I'd fall over if not for his arms holding me up. The water washed away my fight and I stood there, breath coming in hiccups. He pulled back to look at me.

"Thank you." I mumbled as he started washing my hair.

"Shh, don't worry about it. I love you, do anything to make you okay." I leaned into him again, soapy forehead on his collarbone.

With the panic receding, I washed my body, he stayed with me despite being done showering. I went as quickly as possible, desperate to be done. He dried off and dressed himself, I dried myself, dragging the towel roughly over my skin, leaving red marks in its wake. I pulled on clothing he'd set out for me, including his hoodie that I loved so much.

"Alright, here, sit." He motioned to the toilet, I obliged, and then he started rummaged in the cupboard under the sink, retrieving a hairdryer, he uncoiled the cord and plugged it into the wall.

"I'm fine, stop fussing over me."

He ran the conditioning oil he insisted I use through my hair and combed the snares out with my brush. Once the week's worth of tangles were out he took the hairdryer in hand, "here, since you hate being wet so much," he smiled at me and turned the appliance on, drying my locks. It took a while, my hair thick and long, but he persisted.

"Thank you." I mumbled again once he was finished.

"Of course. Now, step one is done, you're so fresh and so clean, now step two, what will you eat? Anything in the whole world, we live in New York City, if you'll eat it, I'll find it, whether it's arroz con gandules or fucking borscht, I'll get it." He opened the door of the steamy bathroom and tossed the duvet onto our bed, I noticed he'd been sleeping under a tiny throw blanket and felt a pang of shame at leaving him to sleep cold and alone under the thin blanket. I followed him to the living room.

"Not hungry." I bit a loose hangnail on my thumb.

"Cool, well, that sucks because we're rapidly entering the 'you're gonna die' stage of not eating, so 'not hungry' is no longer a good enough answer. So what'll it be?"

"Just… whatever you want."

"Babe, I'll literally eat anything as long as you eat some too. I want to get something you'll at least try to eat. What sounds even kind of good?"

I thought about it, "can you just make some spaghetti or some shit?"

He screwed up his face, thinking, "I'm pretty sure we used the last jar of sauce, how about I go get you some from Giovanni's. Or if I'm going out do you want alfredo?"

I shrugged, "don't care. You sure you don't mind going out?"

"Not even a bit. Do you want to come?"

I shook my head, "it's too cold."

He grinned and kissed the top of my head before tucking his still wet hair under a beanie and wrapping himself in his jacket. He did the 'keys, wallet, phone' pat down before leaving. I curled fetal on the couch, wanting a cigarette, but feeling too lazy to get one. Exhaustion won me over and I fell asleep, not waking until John got back.

"Oh, you were asleep, that's good. Sorry, I took so long, okay, got lasagna, spaghetti with no meat sauce, spaghetti with meat sauce and chicken alfredo… and breadsticks. Take your pick, just please eat something."

I watched as he laid out the small tin pie pans and I grabbed the alfredo container and a breadstick. John tucked into his meatlessly sauced spaghetti and pretended not to watch me as I picked at the breadstick, eating a small bite, my stomach unsettled by the food after… I thought about it… three days since my last meal.

I ate the noodles at a birdlike pace, all my attention turned to convincing my mind that I was hungry, John finished his spaghetti and set the empty container down.

"Work sucks without you." John broke the silence.

I set my food on the table, done pretending I was eating, "at least you have a job."

John grabbed me by the shoulders and tugged my head into his lap, playing with my hair, "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to complain, I just really liked being around you all day."

"Me too." I nuzzled into his stomach, not wanting my face exposed.

"I've been thinking, why don't you go back to school, Alex? Finish your law degree, you're between jobs, why not change careers? You're not going to be fulfilled or happy working somewhere like Buzzfeed, go do something that matters."

"How do you suggest I do that, John?" I sneered, "I'm already $30,000 in the hole."

"Well, we'd figure it out, but do you think you'd want to?"

"I-I don't know, never gave it too much thought, felt too far fetched, I mean, maybe."

"I bet we could get you in for the Spring semester."

"Maybe." I rubbed my face.

He started braiding back a piece of my hair from the temple, "we don't have to talk about it right now. Hey, you remember Polly's gonna be in town next week, right? Is that still okay with you? She loves Lafayette, could go stay with him if you want."

I shook my head, "no, it's fine if she's here. She's your sister, of course she can stay here."

"If you change your mind that's okay."

"Okay." I worked my jaw and glanced up at him.

He smoothed hair away from my face and traced my cheekbones through the scraggly stubble growing there, "what's the matter?"

"John, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For getting fired, for being a burden to you. You should just leave me. I told you when this started, this wouldn't end well."

He let out a heavy sigh, and patted my hip, encouraging me into a sitting position, he maneuvered me in his lap, I felt small, annoyed by my stature that I fit in his lap against his chest so well, he laced his fingers together around my waist, "Alexander, do you love me?"

I sputtered in annoyance, "John, don't be dense, of course I love you. You should know that by now."

"And I love you. That's what's important, not whether or not you have a job. Not what that job is, just that we love each other. We're set, darlin', honestly, we never need to work again, either of us, and that would be just fine."

"I don't want you to waste your orphan money on me."

He craned his neck and kissed my temple, "not a waste. As long as I'm with you nothing else matters. I just want to be with my man, have him happy, see him smile. You're never a waste, you're my favourite."

"But there are way better people."

"Not for me there aren't. You're my heart and soul, darlin'," he held me tighter, the exhaustion I felt weakened my resolve and I rested my head against him.

"I love you. I'm sorry I'm a burden." I told him again.

"You aren't. But, hey, I need you to take care of yourself, alright? Can you please eat some more for me?"

I shook my head, "I'm really not hungry."

He sighed and kissed my forehead, "well, it's here for you when you are."


	5. Chapter 5

I got back up after John went to bed. I checked the craigslist want ads again for anything writing related. There was nothing that I hadn't already seen, mostly porn, or kids wanting people to look at their shitty manuscripts for free. Switched tabs to look at my email. One glowing new message, I swallowed hard and opened it, reading the text as quickly as possible. The contact that Greene had given came through, the email carried an apologetic tone and explained the nature of the site, it was more news review than blog, and they  _were_ looking to expand their team. My breath caught and team blurred my vision. I sent a copy of my resume to the head editor who had contacted me, despite the late hour and waited, chain smoking out the window.

New York had turned bitter cold in the last week or so, snow clung to window sills and there was a consistent inch of black slush in the roads. I burrowed tighter into the blanket that I'd stolen off the bed in exchange for the duvet and waited.  _I hate waiting. Hate idle fucking time._ As I waited, I glanced at the textbook still on the corner of my desk.  _Fuck, fine._ I bit at my lip and opened a new tab, typing in Columbia's address. I took a deep pull off the cigarette between my lips and clicked over to their graduate programs page. Scholarships, one for continuing education at their institution,  _yup_ , one for Latinos,  _sí_ , one for history of high grade point average,  _yup_. I worked my way through a notebook, running numbers and trying to figure out where every dime would be accounted for, what classes to take when.  _Maybe. Maybe I could swing this._ In the background, my email pinged. I clicked back over, a little too quick and desperate even for my personal taste.

Another message from James Madison at the Publius. I opened it.  _Holy shit._ They were interested in setting up an interview.  _Fuck yes._ I emailed back my availability -  _completely fucking open -_ and thanked him profusely. Within minutes there was another response, interview set up for two days from now. I confirmed and thanked him. I snuffed my cigarette and bounded into our bedroom, feeling a moment of remorse for what I was doing.  _But I did it anyway._

"John, John! Wake up!" I pulled back the duvet and John sat up, looking ready for a fight.

"What'sa matter, Alex, are you hurt?" only one of his eyes was open.

I flung myself onto the bed and kissed him, "got an interview at that online news place I told you about."

He blinked sleep away, "oh, babe, that's amazing! I'm so happy for you. It's late. What time is it?"

"Late. Doesn't matter, journalists keep weird hours."

"No shit." He embraced me and showered me in sleepy kisses. His mouth warm and sensual. I matched each point of contact from his lips with one of my own. At some point our kisses became more fervent, more needy, more consumed by want. Small sounds escaping both of our mouths, volume dulled against the skin of the other.

"...Alex…"John panted against my throat as I pulled back, tearing my shirt over my head before my needy hands found the hem of his shirt. I had to feel him, feel his warmth, touch the ripples of his muscles.  _Finally felt worthy of having his attention again._ I shook that thought loose and forced myself back into the moment, I dropped my mouth back to his skin, suckling at the valley of his chest, he let me lay him back against the pillows and straddle his waist, continuing my ministrations.

His hips bucked to meet mine, desperate for friction, I leaned into him, closing the gap between our bodies, pressing my pelvis against his, eliciting a low, throaty moan from him. I sucked against the vibrations in his throat, teeth grazing his Adam's apple, certain he'd have purple bruises from my teeth there in the morning.  _I'm not sorry._ I was insatiable for him, starved and demanding, he let me have him. Soft and pliable, submissive under me, hands raking my chest, one reaching behind me to grab a handful of ass, fingers digging at the flesh there.

"So proud of you. You're doing good." his voice was unsteady, quivering in response to my touch.

I picked my head up, lips leaving his body, but my gaze never left his frame, "'so well.' Nothing about my motives are altruistic."

"I can't believe you're correcting my grammar right now." The exasperation in his voice was feigned. I couldn't help but laugh.

I met his eyes and hovered over him, taking a dark, serious tone, "stop talking and I won't have to." With that I crashed our mouths together, tongues dueling for dominance, his moans echoed in the cavern of my mouth.

I needed more of him. Needed all of him. Without breaking contact I pulled at his pants, the soft cotton sliding down his legs with ease. I repeated the action with my own garments, the less forgiving flannel slightly harder to discard.

I melted into his warmth, hand reaching down to grip at his hip, the perfectly protruding bone a handhold, he ground against me, "need you, Alexander, please, I missed you. Missed feeling you. I need to feel you, Alex."

"Roll over, querido." I growled into his ear. He obliged, tucking his knees under his stomach to make himself more available. I made quick work of readying him with lubed fingers, relishing my ability to turn his hisses and gasps into moans of pleasure as he relaxed around my intrusion. I added another finger, enjoying the gasp in shock as his muscles twitched to take it.

"Yes, God, you feel so good. Oh please, yes!" his moans were more and more urgent.

I settled myself behind him and exchanged fingers for my lube slicked cock, throwing my head back in a moan of ecstasy, my hair tickling the bare skin of my back, and I pushed in farther. He cried out as he took me in. I found the right angle to please us both, nudging his knees farther apart with one of my own to settle his taller body lower to the mattress. He gasped at being moved, changing the sensation of me inside him. I discovered a pace that made him grunt with each of my thrusts and I gripped a tangle of his hair, jerking his head back, his mouth falling open. I pushed even harder and he cried out as I hit the right spot deep within him. His cries died into a constant whimper with each thrust, hard enough for the headboard to knock against the wall.

"You like that don't you? Like how I fuck you? Like how I take care of you? How your man takes care of you." I licked a stripe down the bumpy column of his spine, making him arch his back.

"Yes, oh, love it. Yes. You take such good care of me. Alex, you make me feel so good."

"You're goddamn right I do. Take care of what's mine." I let his hair go and dropped a hand to his shoulder, kneading the flesh there. He moaned at the competing sensations of my urgent thrusts and my hands working the supple flesh of his neck and shoulder.

I threaded my other hand underneath him, hinging my elbow on his hip and took him in hand. He whined as I started pumping in time with my thrusts, working him over totally.

"Don't stop. Please. Please. Alex, I need it, I need to come-" he dropped his head into the pillows and I felt his cock twitch as he came, his muscles clenching, abs tight, every muscle in his body engaged, setting off the chain reaction of my own stuttering orgasm. I dropped against his back, both of us panting in tandem. I pulled out and offered him a tissue from the bedside table. He took it and we cleaned ourselves up.

I flopped into the bed with him, he took his place against me, tucking himself under my arm, head rested in the crook where my chest met my arm. I brushed his hair away from my mouth.

"Good to have you back." he drew aimlessly across my chest.

"What do you mean?"

"The fire. I missed your fire. You went all grey on me."

"Well, I'm back. I'm gonna get this job, John."

"I don't doubt it for a minute. You gonna stay in bed or get back up and work on stuff?"

"I'll stay with you."

He tangled his legs through mine and pulled me tighter to him, possessive, "good, I'm so glad you cuddle me now. That was a bummer at first, especially because you're so good at it."

"Bullshit. I am not."

"You are, though, Alex. You make me feel so loved."

"Good, that's because I love you." I kissed him good night, he returned the admission of love and we both found sleep.

In the morning he was already gone when I woke, the sun was out and I checked the time, shocked and amazed to find I'd slept for ten hours. I got up and started my daily routine of cigarette, coffee, Twitter, but today was different. I felt the differentness in my bones.  _Something good was gonna happen, goddammit_. I spent the rest of the morning combing through the Publius website, trying to learn everything I could, prepare for any questions they'd ask me. I sent an email confirmation of the interview and located my business suit from its place still in a duffel bag.

I was still in the study when John got home, Lafayette in tow.

"Hey babe, it okay if Laf joins us for dinner?" he kissed me.

"Yeah, that's cool. What's up, Laf?" I clapped a handshake with Lafayette.

"How are you doing, Alexander?" Lafayette asked with trepidation in his voice.

"Better. I'm doing better. Got a job interview tomorrow."

"It will become your bitch."

"It's, 'you'll make it your bitch,' Laf." John corrected.

The Frenchman scowled at himself, "merde, I fuck that up every time."

"You do." John laughed.

"What's Herc up to tonight?" I asked.

"He's in Switzerland, working on some new collection thing. I do not have details, but he will still be gone for Christmas." Lafayette screwed his mouth up to one side.

"Hey, that's perfect, I mean that's sad, but, John's been so bummed about missing Christmas with you. Now you can spend it with us." I tried to delicately extract my foot from my mouth.

"Are you sure?" John looked at me, hazel eyes wide and puppy like, "I figured you'd want it just us."

"I'm absolutely sure." I kissed his forehead.

John grinned from ear to ear, Lafayette seemed to loosen up at the prospect of at least being with his best friend for the holiday.

"Don't forget, we're getting Polly from the airport the day after tomorrow." John reminded me.

"And hopefully we're celebrating." I wrapped an arm around him.

"Hopefully."

John and Lafayette cooked dinner together while I lounged in the living room. I was enjoying listening to their lighthearted conversation, laughing with each other while they cooked, hearing the friendliness in their voices. I was almost embarrassed at how jealous I'd been of Lafayette when I'd first met him. Finally, when dinner was ready John brought me a plate, simple chicken and vegetables, but it was delicious nonetheless.

"It's the butter, Americans are so afraid of butter." Lafayette told me as an answer to my compliment.

"Well, whatever it is, it's spectacular."

"Are you nervous for your interview, mon ami?" Lafayette asked me.

"Somewhat, but I've got a good feeling about this."

"Is there anything we can do to help you prepare?" John inquired.

"Nope, it's gonna be what it's gonna be." I took his hand under the table.

"You'll do great." Lafayette encouraged.

"Here's hoping." I tipped my glass reverently and took a sip.


	6. Chapter 6

"Alright, Alex, go kill 'em. I'm proud of you, love you no matter what happens. Knock 'em dead, babe." John held me, stooping to kiss my lips again, his taste steeling me with courage.

I nodded and hugged him back before settling a hand on the strap of my bag strung across my body.  _This is it._

"Alright, see you later, querido. Here's hoping." I shut the door to our apartment behind me and set off for the headquarters of Publius.

The train ride wasn't long and I spent most of it rehearsing to myself. I was prepared. As prepared as I could be. I followed my GPS and found the small building, taking a deep breath, I reached for the door. It was an open room, wood panelling walls, stuffy mildew and stale takeout smelling, tangled web of power cords running to various laptops, empty coffee cups littering every free table space, mismatched desks and chairs, three beat up couches, water cooler in one corner, with an industrial sized coffee pot. A man emerged from a back room that I hadn't noticed until the door shut. He closed the distance and offered a hand. He was strong, a big man, firm handshake.  _Maybe I'm just a racist piece of shit… but he looked a little bit like Hercules._

He spoke first, "James Madison, you must be-"

My nerves got the better of me and I cut in, "-Alexander Hamilton, pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine. Welcome to our humble office. We're a grassroots operation, prefer to pay people rather than work in fashion. We've got too much stuff to do to be too fancy."

"That's good, fancy isn't really my bag, I like humble." I smiled and he led me to a desk and offered me to sit in the vinyl chair, he surprised me by sitting next to me rather than across the desk.

"Then I'm sure we'll get along fine. I've read some of your work. I have to say I'm impressed, your vocabulary alone is incredible, some of your articles from the Post are just mind blowing."

"Thank you."

"It's a shame that paper news is dying out, these layoffs are taking out good journalists right and left."

"I agree, it's hard to thrive in this industry right now."

"So the job opening that we have is to temporarily replace our chief editor, not to be confused with editor in chief, we're not really about titles here, a little more 'all for one and one for all,' but people expect you to have a title, even if they're arbitrary, like I'm the head editor. Anyway, our chief editor, John, has taken ill and we need someone to take his place during his leave, but he may be able to come back at some point, that said, I believe our team could stand to grow permanently."

"John?"

"John Jay, he's the other guy, why you know him?"

"Oh, no, I just, my boyfriend's name is John."  _and I've outed myself. Damn. If they don't hire me because of that I'll-._

"Boyfriend? Wouldn't peg you for the type. Don't, uh, don't worry, though, we're totally LGBT friendly here. My boyfriend's finishing up his degree in France right now."

"Oh, neat, I have a friend from France. I actually speak French, too."

"Well look at you. I read in your resume that you speak other languages. Very impressive, that skill could help us get our message to a wealth of other audiences, especially in immigrant communities where there's low voter registration."

"I appreciate that too, I'm Latino, and spent a lot of time living in the Washington Heights area, just recently moved farther south, but that's my community, so voter turnout and minority issues are important to me."

We talked for a while longer, conversation flowing easily.

"Well, Mr. Hamilton, I gotta run everything by John, but I would keep Monday open if I were you."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Madison." I shook his hand.

"Please, call me James, have a good weekend."

"Uh, you too!" I gathered my things and tried to contain my excitement as I rounded the corner calling John.

"How'd it go?" he answered.

"Pretty sure I got it!"

He had his quiet 'office voice' on, but his whisper betrayed excitement, "fuck yeah, you did, that's my baby! So proud of you."

"Thanks for everything, this last week or so, John. I don't know what I did to deserve you."

"Don't mention it. I love you, now let me get off here so I can finish up early and come celebrate with you."

"Sounds good. I love you, querido."

"I love you, too."

I tried to contain the spring in my step. Things were gonna be okay. I stopped by a flower shop and picked up a winter-priced bouquet for John, just to thank him for putting up with me and bounded home, not even minding the chill in the air.

I straightened the apartment, getting things ready for John's sister to arrive the next day, enjoying the feeling of my gloom and fog lifting. Things had been getting better, John was bringing the 'better' out of me, unboxing and polishing the person I used to be, the happy, hopeful one.  _The one I'd thought died with Eliza's baby._ None of that, not today, it's a good day. I cleared my mind and stepped outside to light a cigarette, trying the breathing exercises the therapist had given me, but mostly just smoking.

Flurries of snow started, I knew the snow would make John nervous for flights tomorrow, but I watched the snow in wonder, even though I'd lived in New York for half my life the snow still held magic for me, as much as I hated the cold, could never quite acclimate to it, I loved the snow. I started the tea kettle for John when he'd texted me that he was on his way home.

I helped him peel his winter gear off, hanging his drippy scarf up on its hook next to mine and handed him his tea once he'd shed his gloves.

"Thank you," he kissed my cheek, "house looks great." He looked around to see that it was tidied up. Pillows and blankets made up on the couch as a makeshift bed.

I motioned to the flowers I'd dropped into a vase, "those are for you."

"Oh, Alex, darlin' they're beautiful."

"I just wanted to thank you. You've been so patient, so good with me this last week. Thanks for not giving up on me."

"I could never give up on you, Alexander. You're my love."

I nodded.  _I can't believe he didn't give up on me._

"So what's the plan for tonight?" I asked him.

"Well, I dunno, it's our last night alone."

"So we should fuck each other senseless? 'Cause I intend to do that whether or not your sister is here. I'm not the one who can't keep quiet while taking it." I quirked an eyebrow.

"Jesus, sometimes you open your mouth and utter filth falls out." He shook his head.

"Not the first time I've heard that, my dear Laurens." I leaned in and licked the shell of his ear.

"Good God." A slosh of tea spilled on the carpet as he shuddered against my touch.

"But first, I'm hungry."

John turned giddy, almost manic, "you're hungry? Yes, right now, let's go. Whatever you want."

I rolled my eyes at his care, knowing how much it bothered him when I wasn't in the mood to eat.

"You pick."

"It's stupid cold out. Soup?"

"Soup sounds great. Here, sit for a minute, drink your tea and warm up."

"Are you sure? If you're hungry I don't want to miss out on that, watch you circle back to not hungry."

He knew me too well, knew that I was prone to feeling hunger as a fleeting sensation, a byproduct of honing myself to ignore the pleads of my body.

"I'll be fine, plus, I want my appetizer." I guided him to the couch and straddled his waist, more tea sloshing on the ground.

"Let me set this down before I give us third degree burns."

"I dunno, might be kind of hot." I whispered into his jaw, nipping it lightly.

"You're a sick puppy sometimes, Hamilton, you know that?"

I shrugged, "eh, it keeps things interesting."

"Sure does. But sometimes I like to keep things interesting too." He cradled the back of my head and flipped us, gaining the upper hand, pinning me against the couch, his hair falling into his face, I reached up to smooth it away.

His hands were under my shirt, rooting across my chest in that trademarked John fervor, desperate and unsure of his actions, I drug my thumb across his lips, his tongue flicking out to taste my skin. He sucked my thumb into his mouth, his eye contact almost challenging me to want more, I met the challenge and yanked at his pants to no avail. He sat up, still straddling me and discarded his sportcoat, needing a greater range of motion. He pulled a hair tie off his wrist and knotted his hair back into a messy bun before dropping over my hips, suckling at the valley near the angular bone, one of the only hard places on my body, unlike his that was all muscle and edges.

"John." I breathed.

He opened my jeans and pushed my boxers out of the way, wasting no time, he relaxed his mouth and took me all the way into his throat, nose resting against the soft crop of hair at the base. I sighed and melted at the touch, head lolling to the side. He continued working me over, sloppy tongue swirling, flattening out, prodding, teeth grazing. I gripped at his hair.

"Yeah, yeah, that's good, John. Oh, te amo te amo te amo, putain de bordel de merde. Fuck. Goddammit, no pare, sigue sigue. Yes." I came, almost violently, breath held, toes curled, hands fisted in his hair. He let me ride it out. I threw an arm over my face, basking. He pulled back and wiped his mouth.

"I'm the one who can't stay quiet, huh?" He lie on top of me, not uncomfortably, "what was that? All three languages? 'Oh John, te amo, merde, oh yeah, baby!'" he mocked playfully.

"Shut up, it's my special skill, they liked it at my interview."

"What, you crying out in the throes of passion."

"You're absurd."

"That's kind of why you love me, though, right?"

I rolled my eyes, "maybe just a little bit."

"We definitely have to change these sheets now. You still hungry?"

"Ravenous." My eyes hooded.

"For food, jackass."

"You suck all the fun out of everything."

"Must be why you're no fun, I sucked it all out of you." He mimed sucking me off.

"Can't be, I was no fun before you."

"Whatever, you ready to go get some food?"

"I guess so, but since we have to change the sheets anyways I expect a round two before we do."

I made myself appropriate for public consumption and we left the building to have dinner together, a moment of quiet alone time before the whirlwind of the next few weeks with me starting a new job, Polly in town, and Christmas. Our dinner was spent with long pointed glances, and feet and ankles finding each other under the table, fingers twining between plates to find each other. It was one of the first real meals I'd eaten in a while, I felt it replenishing me, making me human again.

We walked home together, not minding the cold as long as we kept each other close, he was prattling on in true John style.

"...I wasn't able to get Lion King tickets for next week, I guess since it's almost Christmas, but I already got them for the summer so I'll give them to her for Christmas. Hopefully that's good enough. I mean, I got Wicked tickets, but I kinda dropped the 'gay brother who lives in New York' ball, didn't I?"

"I'm sure it's fine, querido," with the hand not holding his I flicked my cigarette and put it back against my lips.

"Yeah, I suppose, I just want this trip to be magical for her. Kid's had a rough year."

"I'm sure just spending time with you will make up for some of that."

"Look at you being sweet."

"See, now that you brought it up and made it a thing, it's gonna stop, I have to be an asshole to you now or else I'll lose my street cred."

"What street cred?"

I pushed him gently, "that street cred."

"You're an ass."

"See that's better. All is right in the world."

We made it home and I insisted that he have his way with me on the couch one more time before we changed the sheet, it was awkward and mostly uncomfortable, my leg falling asleep under me, and our bed only twenty feet away would have been much more practical, but this was about proving a point.

We finished re-making the bed up on the couch for Polly and I kissed John, pressing our still naked chests together, "I love you."

"I love you, too, Alexander." He nuzzled his forehead against mine.


	7. Chapter 7

"There she is!" John pawed at my side as we saw Polly walking up from the gate.

She met eyes with her brother and beamed, John vibrated beside me, and she burst through the gate, running up to greet him.

"Jackie!" She kissed his cheek.

"Polly girl!" He embraced her in one of those  _John hugs,_ the ones that were all consuming, imbued with the power to erase all of the worst parts of your day and leave you feeling ready to take on the day. She let him go and turned to me.

"Alexander!" Remembering my aversion to hugs, she nudged me with an elbow.

Despite myself, I gave her a quick, loose embrace, "hi."

Polly's accent seeming so thick and out of place here - I wondered how long it would take being around Polly before John abandoned the use of his 'r' sounds for 'ah' and drug an extra syllable out of his words - she beamed at me, "it's good to see your face."

I nodded and the three of us walked to the baggage carousel, "how was your flight, little bit? Any problems?" John tugged at the end of her hair, shorter than last time I'd seen it, the new cut making her look older.

"Nope, it was all good. I can't believe I'm actually here."

"Believe it, kiddo, your brother here has all sorts of shenanigans planned for this week." I took John's hand.

"Like what?" She bit her lip around a smile and looked at John.

"Like going to see Wicked tomorrow. Heathers later this week." John confirmed.

"No! Really?" She rose to her tiptoes, bouncing, and her jaw dropped.

"Really really."

"Oh, my god! That's so exciting, I can't wait, are you coming with?" She looked at me.

"Nope, musicals aren't really my thing."

John drug her heavy suitcase off the carousel.

"Ready to see my house?" John asked her.

"Um, duh! How is living together? Is it so awesome?" She looked between the two of us.

"It's pretty cool," John agreed, "how's life with Pats?"

Polly rolled her eyes, "about as good as you think, she's trying to be mom."

"Come on, Polly, be fair. She knows she's not mom, it's just who she is, she's a lot like mom."

"I know." She rolled her eyes.

"Anyways, Alex is about to start a new job." John bragged.

"Really? That's cool. Where?"

"It's this, uh, little online thing." I confessed.

"That's cool, way to go, Alex!" She cheered.

"Alexander to you," John corrected.

"You call him Alex." She rolled her eyes, making a 'what gives' gesture.

"He's my boyfriend, when you get a boyfriend you can call him whatever you want, but until he's your boyfriend he's Alexander. I can get away with it because I'm so cute." John flipped his hair.

"Cute... Right." She pursed her lips at John.

We stepped out into the cold evening, John hauling Polly's bag, she stared up at the high rises, the same awestruck expression on her face that everyone had when they first saw the city.

She was breathless when words found her, "oh my god. Look at it! This is the greatest city in the world."

John patted her on the back, and looked up, too, his and Polly's eyes filled with refracted stars of the neon lights matching the constellations of freckles dotting their faces. I leaned up and kissed John's cheek, more in love with him every time I saw that sense of wonder on his face,  _even more in love with him when that look of awe was directed toward me._

"Alright, come on, ya tourists. Let's go home where it's warm." I grinned and tugged John along.

"It's just so incredible!" Polly was vibrating, a combination of the cold and the thrill.

"You bring a heavier coat, sunshine?" John noticed her teeth chattering.

"I brought my ski jacket, but it's packed up, it was 73 out when I left earlier."

"Shoulda left it out, dummy." He unzipped his coat and shed it, helped her into it. The coat dwarfed her, but she accepted it happily. John buttoned his sportcoat and tucked closer against me.

We got on the subway and Polly looked around like this was the most magical moment of her life.  _I couldn't ignore the lingering scent of piss that clung to the train._

"This is so cool!" She pushed the far too long sleeves of John's coat up to reveal her hands.

I glanced at John who had set his teeth into his bottom lip, trying desperately to still the chatter that he'd gotten in his teeth from the cold without his jacket. I rubbed his arm quickly, trying to warm him some. He noticed and smiled over at me around his bit lip.

"This is us, come on." John stood, legs far apart, the spidey sense center of gravity that all New Yorkers got to be able to navigate a moving train, he took her elbow as she stood up and took a faltering step.

I took her suitcase from John as he steadied her during the careening halt the train was in, once the doors opened we stepped off. I hauled the suitcase up a few steps before John took the wheel end and picked the back half of it up. It looked too easy for him, I'd been grunting and on the brink of breaking a sweat from hauling it for four steps.  _Fucking Adonis, all strong and beautiful._ At the top of the stairs he took the handle of the suitcase from me.

"Is Laf here?" She asked, her voice filled with even more excitement.

"No, you want me to call him?" John offered.

"Can you?" She grinned.

"Yeah, sure," he held the door to the building for her and called him once we were on the elevator.

"Hey, I got someone here who wants to see you," he held the phone out to Polly who shouted a greeting, "you busy? ...Well then come over!"

He hung up and scoffed in annoyance, pulling out his best - but still terrible - French accent, "I am just bored at home, so alone."

"Where's his boyfriend?"

"Switzerland. He's a fashion designer."

Her eyes widened, "that's like, really cool."

I unlocked the door for us and John welcomed her in, while he gave her the tour I set out some cheese and crackers and grapes for her, figuring that she was probably hungry after traveling.  _I mean, I'm really not a complete ass._

Lafayette knocked a quick tap-tap and let himself in, still having a key, "sup, Laf?" I nodded to him.

He waved and was ambushed by Polly launching herself at him, setting him off kilter, losing his footing and falling against the door.

"Jeez, Poll, let him get in the door first." John smiled sympathetically at our friend.

"I missed you!" Polly squealed.

"I missed you, too, ma douce fille," he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and took her hand spinning her in a circle, "look at you! You're so grown up! You are not a little girl!"

"You'd know that if I saw you more than once every five years."

Lafayette feigned offense, "but you see me now!"

Polly gave him a look, and he made a show of throwing his hands up defensively to shield himself from her glare.

She turned her attention back to John, "are we doing anything tonight?"

"Up to you."

She took a piece of cheese and a cracker, and thought it over, "I'm a little worn out, can we plan out tomorrow and just hang out?"

"Of course."

We talked about all of the things she wanted to do while she was here, she couldn't wipe the smile from her face when talks of seeing Wicked came up. Lafayette grilled her about school and boys and what she liked to do. She talked happily and asked him all about Hercules, demanding to see pictures. We were all crammed on the couch, me on an end, John beside me, Polly next to him, and Lafayette against the other arm of the sofa. He was showing her pictures on his phone, she asked questions about nearly every shot. John turned on netflix and started Heathers, mentioning that they should 'pregame' before seeing the musical later in the week.

Within an hour Polly was sound asleep, head on Lafayette's shoulder, arm around his chest, legs kicked up and draped across John's lap.

"You wanna go to bed?" John asked me in a whisper.

I shrugged, "your call, I'm good to keep watching this or go to bed or whatever."

"I can't believe you've never seen Heathers." He shook his head.

"I haven't seen most things, John, I've watched more TV in the last six months with you than probably in my whole life."

"To be fair, no one watches as much television as John." Lafayette agreed quietly.

"Whatever, I appreciate the art."

"The art of 'Real Housewives'?" Lafayette teased.

"Oh my god, I watched one season. One!"

"You watched a whole season?" I asked in disbelief.

"You guys are the worst. And it's Herc's fault I like Next Top Model and Project Runway so much." He pointed a finger at Lafayette.

"That, I will concede, is true."

"See! Now, are you staying over or going home? I'll make up the air mattress."

"I will go home, what time is the show tomorrow?"

"It's a matinee at two, I'm working a half day before that."

"I will have dinner with you. Bonne nuit!" he slipped careful out from under Polly and lowered her head onto a pillow and snuck out the door.

I got up first and John slid out from under Polly's legs, setting them on the couch, he tucked a blanket around her and took my hand. We got ready for bed.

"I'm so happy she's here." He said, rubbing his face with a washcloth to get all the cleanser off.

"Me, too. She's a good kid." I agreed, braiding back my hair.

He moisturized his face and traded me places so I could brush my teeth. After finishing our rituals we climbed into bed. John settled against me in the dark.

"I'm a man of my word, John." I sighed into the darkness, voice filled with drama.

"...O-okay, yeah, I guess I'd agree."

"And I promised that I would fuck you senseless even with your sister at our house. I would hate to be seen as someone who can't keep his promises." I stroked his chest, feeling the rise of goosebumps.

He rolled over, chest against my side, "then it's a good thing she's here for a week. Good night, Alexander." His voice was musical, an annoyed humor.

"So what, I think you're sexy and want to act on my carnal urges any time that the opportunity presents itself. Is that such a terrible thing, to be the focus of arousal for your lover?"

He leaned up and pressed a kiss on my lips, effectively quieting me, and repeated, "good night, Alexander."

Petulance creeped into my tone, "ugh, fine, good night… All I'm saying is-"

"Oh my god, stop talking."

I laughed, deriving pleasure from annoying him, "it's really your problem, you looking all sexy, being so sweet to me all the time, being just a stand up kinda guy, really does it for me, mm, and then there's the freckles, wanna kiss each one of 'em, and ugh, your dimples, try and make you smile all the time just to see 'em," I felt for his face in the darkness, finding his cheek and thumbing the divot there, feeling his grin, "see like right now, uh… hold on, let me get my phone and... there we go," I lit up the screen and saw his wide smile, all crinkles and dimples, he squinted against the light, "mm, beautiful, sexy." I licked my lips.

"I think I like you better aloof and mysterious."

"Again, that's all your problem, I had no problem being aloof and mysterious until you walked into my life, then you had to go and make me all happy and shit, make me believe in love again and all  _that shit,_ get me into therapy where I talk about my feelings and work on becoming a better person and all  _that shit."_

"You can keep talking, I'm going to sleep, I love you." He rolled away from me.

"Oh, look, now I get to compliment your ass," I smacked it and then grabbed a palmful, "so tight, your whole body's banging, mm, but this ass, though." I grabbed his hip and heaved him toward me, pressing my pelvis against his ass.

"Stop." He whined, dragging the plea out to four or five syllables.

"Fine, I just love you," I snuggled against his back and kissed his shoulder, his hair tickling my face, I brushed it aside, "can't believe I didn't mention your hair, sexy curls, the way it falls on your shoulders, ugh, and then there's when you pull it back and I get to see all of your pretty face, ooh, and then there's when you pull it back to suck my dick  _and_ I get to see your pretty face, that's the type of shit they write sonnets about."

"Alexander Hamilton, if you adlib a sonnet right now, so help me god."

"Thine freckles, stars upon my lover's skin

Body like damn, so inviting, my love

Make a man commit original sin

That ass is so tight, fits me like a glove

Those curls, a mane that draws me in deep

I know you're annoyed but I don't care

You mostly wish that I'd just go to sleep

Even my dreams filled with thoughts of lover's hair-"

John groaned and cut me off, only halfway done, "I can't believe you," he rolled back over to snuggle against me.

"Shakespearean rhyme scheme, bitch!" I raised my arms out straight, miming a mic drop.

"Of course it is. Now good night. I love you, nerd."

"I love you, too, querido." I kissed him and decided to shut up.


	8. Chapter 8

I'd gotten the job but would only be working a half week before the Christmas holiday when the office was closed for two weeks. James showed me some of the inner workings of the website and gave me my own credentials to log in and publish to the site. The level of freedom was astounding.  _Fuck Adams._  Before the office closed James tapped me on the shoulder, pulling me from the focused shroud of my work. Coffee cup in his hand, he gave me an envelope. I stared at it.

"You can open it." He said gently, I knew he still couldn't quite figure me out, nothing against him, though,  _I'm not easy to figure out._

I opened the envelope, a check inside, not a small one either, 'Merry Christmas/Welcome Aboard' was written on the memo line.

"I… Wow… Thank you." I stammered, rereading the sum of the check.

"Like, I told you, we prefer to pay people over have a nice office, you're good people, Alexander, damned hard worker. Happy holidays, go enjoy yourself. I'll see you after the start of the new year."

"Thank you. Thanks." I gathered my things and shook his hand.

On the subway ideas began to percolate in my mind, I texted Lafayette.

**Got an idea, want your help.**

He texted back.

**I am at the apartment, Polly was bored, we will discuss there?** I laughed to myself, he still struggled to let go of the apartment, calling it 'the' apartment rather than mine and John's, it was an adjustment for all of us.

**Deal.**

The gears in my mind turned and I smiled to myself, letting ideas gather. I bounded into the elevator and beamed.  _Got this good-boyfriend-decent-human thing on lock, Hamilton._ I threw the door open and found Polly and Lafayette lying on the floor, throw pillows under their chests giggling at a magazine.

"Welcome home, Alexander." Polly waved to me, sitting up.

"Hey guys. Polly can you keep a secret from your brother?"

"Duh." She looked at me like I was an idiot.

"Lafayette, you too, got it?"

"Oui." He sat up, too.

I joined them, sitting across from them, cross legged on the floor.

"So… I was thinking, John's been feeling all torn because, he gets to see you, Polly, but none of his other siblings, and he's been bummed and mopey about that, but I, what if we came home with you, spent Christmas in South Carolina and then came home. Lafayette, you, too."

Polly gasped and clasped her hands to her chest.

"It is a fabulous plan." Lafayette nodded.

"I just got a bonus at work, which is like, fuck, crazy. Sorry, Polly, so there's that, I think I should be able to swing it."

"I can hear adult language, Alexander." She pursed her lips.

"I will pay my own way, and I want the tickets home to be my gift to the both of you." Lafayette smiled warmly.

"Laf, you don't-"

He cut me off, "I insist, Alexander."

"This is gonna be so amazing. John hasn't been home for Christmas in years!" Polly squealed.

"So, how do we surprise him?" I pondered, "that's really where I need help."

Laf waved a hand dismissively, a calm, cool, collected sense about him, "you pack your luggage and then FedEx it to Charleston, have Patsy pick it up, and then-"

Polly cut in, "-you act like you're dropping me off, Laf, you come with under the guise that you love me so much, and then, boom, we all get on a plane."

"Genius!" I grinned.

Polly stuck a hand out, "best Christmas ever on three."

Lafayette placed his hand on hers. I looked between them skeptically. Lafayette cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes at me. Reluctantly, I put my hand on top of his.

Polly squealed, "one, two, three. Best Christmas ever!"

Shortly thereafter, John got home, Lafayette tried to be  _super_ casual, "oh, hey, John, we're just hanging out, and you know... talking... because of how we are friends."

John crinkled his face and cocked his head at Lafayette, "uh, okay, weirdo."

"Be chill." Polly growled under her breath and elbowed Lafayette hard.

"Ow." He yelped.

"Did you have a good day?" I kissed him.

"Adams is a fucking idiot." He shook his head.

"I don't miss that." I smirked.

He turned his attention to his sister, "alright, sunshine, we've got about half an hour til we need to go, you excited?"

"Super excited." Polly agreed.

John changed and then he and Polly left for their musical. Lafayette and I got to planning, we were able to get three more seats on the plane with Polly for the flight back to South Carolina, and he booked a flight home for us a few days later.

"We should pack his things now." Lafayette suggested, happily switching to French since we were alone. I could almost see his mind relaxing as the real time translation wheel stopped spinning in his brain. Conversation between us flowed easily when he got to speak in French.

I started the list to pack, it would be even more inconspicuous since I would be mostly bringing along summer clothes due to the warmer climate.

"You are so good for John. He's never been this happy." Lafayette mused, packing John's bag while I packed my own.  _What the fuck? Me? I really make him 'the happiest he's ever been'? Me?_

"I don't know about that." My French felt rustier than I liked, the conversation with Lafayette was good practice.

"I do. I have known John for a long time and through a lot of boys, but you, you're special to him. He's serious about you."

"I'm serious about him, too." I don't even know why I was opening up to him, our secret language felt safe and confidential, like those weren't words that could be repeated in English.

"Thank you for being so good for my friend. I have, for so many years, worried about him, he was on a path to self-destruction for so long. You brought him away from that. Helped him swim back out. I don't think you even know how much it's true."

_It was really that bad? My John, that lost?_

"He's lucky to have you." I smiled and handed Lafayette more of John's clothes.

"Want to hear something embarrassing?"

"What's that?"

"He came home from his first day of work in such a bad mood, looked like he was on the verge of tears, you know how he gets when he is frustrated with something. Took a bubble bath, made a cup of tea, and then took himself to bed early," Lafayette dropped the shirt he was rolling up and doubled over laughing, face in the open suitcase, he came up gasping, grin that was all teeth and took up half his face, he fixed his askew glasses and wiped a tear, "I have not heard him masturbate so much since we were fifteen."

I pressed my lips together to try and stifle a laugh, but it burst out of me in an elephant trumpet and I clutched my stomach, laughing until tears rolled down my face.

"Are you serious?" I asked in choked gasps.

Lafayette nodded, "he was just moping around the apartment, all like" he switched to English and put on his best - but still terrible - 'John voice,' clasping his hands over his heart "'what the heck I gotta do to be with him? Lafayette, Lafayette, he's so perfect, if you could only see him,'" he put a wrist over his forehead like an actress in a black and white movie and sighed, "'and so attractive. I'm gonna marry that man.'"

"Oh, please, he did not."

"It's true, he did. He has loved you since the moment he first saw you."

I rolled my lip through my teeth, "I guess I have, too."

"He was convinced you hated him, he was mortified to even be around you. Every morning, he would come out and ask me what I thought of his outfit and no matter what I said would change at least three times. He thought about just quitting his job after the first day. He has never been like that before."

"Really? He did all that?" I shook my head in disbelief.  _For me?_

Lafayette nodded and went back to packing, "now, what do you say we engage in some day drinking?"

I considered it, "I'm down. Let's go."

We finished packing the suitcases and went into the kitchen. Lafayette grabbed the bottles from the freezer and sat on the island, I sat on the counter across from him and he poured us each a shot. He handed me mine.

"To John being ridiculous." He tipped his shot glass toward me.

"Hear hear!" We downed them.

That shot was followed by at least five more. We migrated to the living room, gravity now had a comfortable tilt to it. Lafayette struggled against the shift more than I did. He turned on the tv, flipping through netflix. I stepped out for a cigarette, leaning heavily against the metal railing.  _Had John really been that nervous? More importantly, had he really said he wanted to marry me? Did he mean it, or was it just his flair for the dramatic?_ For an instant time held no meaning and I existed on parallel planes, John and I strolling through Central Park together old and grey, the flash of memory of him holding Ellie during our trip to South Carolina, them knocking on the storm door to get my attention while I smoked on the porch swing. My breath caught in my throat, until the smoke trapped in my chest forced me to cough. My mind spun from the whirling timelines and from the alcohol. I flicked my cigarette out and went back inside.

Lafayette was facetiming Hercules, he thrust the camera my direction, and demanded I say hello.

"How's Switzerland?" I asked.

"Exhausting, but incredible. Listen, Alexander, buddy, I don't know how sober you are, but you've got twenty minutes until the puking starts. Good luck."

"What?" I asked, not sure if I heard him correctly.

"Laf's gonna go full white-girl on you here in about twenty minutes. I'll pray for you."

I remembered the night after the bar and sobered up even more than what my thoughts on the balcony did for me. I sunk back into my thoughts while Lafayette and Hercules talked, my alternate universes and hypothetical timelines whirling together. Lafayette let out a heavy breath.

"That's your cue!" Hercules shouted through the phone, rousing me from my thoughts.

Lafayette's eyes were squeezed shut, his hand not holding the cellphone gripped the arm of the couch. I wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him up, "c'mon, big fella, let's go," I took the phone out of his hand, "peace out, Herc, I'll let you know if he dies."

Hercules shrugged and winked, "shit happens. Have fun." he disconnected the line and I pocketed Lafayette's phone. I led him to the bathroom and perched him on the ledge of the bathtub, got him a glass of water, couple of ibuprofen, and a wet rag, when I returned his head was between his knees, taking big slow breaths, "why do I do this?" he moaned in French.

"I dunno, but this is the extent of my nursing for people whose genitals I don't touch, so I'll call you an ambulance if I hear your head crack against the toilet, other than that, good luck, mon ami." I closed the door behind me and remembered I needed to hide the suitcases. I'd take them to FedEx next time that Polly and John went out. I'd barely shut the door when the retching started.

I sat on the couch and read a book, now pretty much sober,  _perks of leaning towards the 'functioning alcoholic' end of the spectrum,_ Lafayette finally joined me, curling up with his knees to his chest on the other end of the couch, he was pale and peaked.

"You alright?"

He nodded and closed his eyes.

John and Polly got back, Polly in a 'Wicked' hoodie. They hung up their outerwear, John surveyed the situation, "you guys got drunk?" a smile twitched on his mouth.

"Yup."

"Regret that yet?"

Polly giggled at Lafayette's ridiculousness.

"Nah, he's fine."

Lafayette was snoring from his corner of the sofa.

"What'd you guys think of the show?" I asked.

"It was spectacular." Polly radiated, going to my study to change out of her somewhat dressy theatre clothes.

"It was actually really good, this is the third time I've seen it, it holds up."

"Good, I'm glad you guys had a good time."

"Glad you did, too," he giggled in Laf's direction, "gotta say, it does funny things to my heart coming home to find my best friend and my love bonding." He grabbed me in a hug.

"I wouldn't quite call him napping a bonding experience." I rolled my eyes.

"Still counts," he nuzzled into me, "I just like seeing all the puzzle pieces in my life fitting together so well."


	9. Chapter 9

Over the week Polly fell in love with the city, caught up in the sensory overload that was the big apple. I found ways to keep myself busy so I wouldn't spoil the surprise I'd been planning for John. Holing myself up in my study and listening to John and Polly have fun in the other room, baking, watching movies, talking about their lives, the occasional knock-down drag out pillow fight  _I definitely wanted no part in that terrifying act._

I was in my study, still staring at the admission essay on Columbia's website, I'd drafted it nearly a hundred times tonight, but it was as good as it was going to get. I clicked submit and waited, rolling my chair to the window to smoke -  _technically_ \- outside.  _This is stupid, this is a waste of time. You have a job, you like writing. Why would you even want to be a lawyer? You don't like people, why make a life of defending them._ I took a drag on the cigarette and continued warring with my mind,  _I don't like people, but I don't like systems more, maybe I could fix systems, write new ones into existence. I'm a fine writer, but I'm not ever going to write anything that will really make a difference, my legacy isn't writing articles, but it could be in law. I can still write, write about the constitution and defend it, write policies and defend them. Write about kids who make mistakes and defend them. Still… it's probably stupid._ I snuffed the butt of the cigarette out and stuck it in an empty coffee mug, pretending that it was an ashtray, just like I pretend John couldn't tell I smoked in here.

I worked my lip until it bled, washing the metallic taste out with the dregs of a cold cup of coffee, the silt at the end of the cup left my mouth feeling gritty, staring at the dialogue box on the computer 'thank you for submitting your essay, please allow 24-48 for a response. Regards, the Columbia admissions department".

John knocked on the door, it was late, Polly probably wanted to go to bed so he was coming to find me, spend a little bit of time together alone. He crinkled his nose when the stale, smoky air hit him, I shot him a nervous smile and he shook his head, closing the distance between us he perched on my desk, legs swinging but almost touching the ground on either side of my chair, he stooped to kiss me, moving his lips to my collarbones he took a deep breath through his nose against my neck, a low hum vibrating his throat.

"How do cigarettes smell so good on you and so bad everywhere else?" He pondered.

"Sorry," I flicked my eyes away, not wanting to look at him.

"It's fine, babe, we'll get one of those draft stop thingies for the door and an automatic air freshener on a timer thingy."

"That's a lot of 'thingies', John." I teased and nuzzled against him, putting my hands on his hips.

"Shut up," he whined, "words are your department, not mine."

"Well, thank God for that."

"You're the worst." He laughed and shoved against my chest.

"I'm so glad you finally figured that out. I've been telling you for months now."

He pulled away from me so I could see him pull a face.

Once we were in bed he curled up against me, I was tangling my fingers through his hair, trying to relax, fingers twitching for a smoke.

"I can't believe tomorrow's Polly's last day here, it's been so good having her here."

"I know. It has been nice. You're pretty cute being all 'big-brotherly,'"

"Whatever, I am not."

"You totally are," we fell comfortably silent for a few minutes, "I applied for law school."

John propped himself on an elbow and cupped my cheek in his free hand, "really?"

I nodded in the darkness.

"That's spectacular, Alex. I hope you get in. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, we'll see, admission deadline was today, so I mean, they probably already have their candidates."

"Just have to wait and find out. Damn, I'm gonna be with a lawyer. You're gonna make a trophy wife out of me, Alexander Hamilton."

"Ha, yeah, right," I rolled my eyes, "let's see if I even get into school before you start power walking with the other middle aged rich white ladies in our Beverly Hills neighbourhood."

He put on a faraway dreamy voice, "but it's my dream, all my life I've wanted matching velour Juicy Couture tracksuits with the word 'juicy' in sequins across my ass."

"Who am I to deny you of your dreams?"

He giggled and lie back down, tucking himself against my back, one arm under my neck, the other holding onto my hip. We fell asleep smiling, my anxiety dissipating.

John had taken the day off to spend Polly's last day with her, he was cooking dinner, I was helping Polly finish an essay she had been given over the winter break, she'd pulled a kitchen chair into my study and sat at my desk with me, both of us staring into her laptop. I squinted and pointed to a line of text.

"Okay, here, this is technically fine, but you've got a dangling participle thing going right here, that makes it a little bit confusing for your reader to remember who or what you're talking about."

She turned to me, confusion glazing her face, "a dangly who?"

I shook my head and scoffed, "do any Laurens children have a comprehensive grasp of the English language or is this just another example of living in the world of an underfunded Department of Education?"

"Dude, I have a C in English, a low C, I'm barely scraping by."

"Ugh, we'll fix that, you can skype me once you're home and the new semester starts. We'll get that grade back up, English is important, our words are who we are, if you can't craft words well, your significance dwindles. You're significant, Polly, we'll teach you how to write like it."

She quirked her mouth to the side and blushed, "thanks for your help."

"Don't mention it, anyway, so when you have a dangling participle that just means that you have a participle, so that's like verb, so an action word, but you turn it into a participle when you use it like an adjective, so like you're essentially describing someone or something by them being a person who does something or has this quality about them, 'so here you've used 'born' as your participle, and then you leave it to dangle when you don't attach it to the thing your discussing. So Hamlet, you know Hamlet, right?"

She stared blankly at me and feigned understanding, "yay, Hamlet!"

"'Yay, Hamlet.' Jesus, come on, America, fund your schools… Okay, so Hamlet, great work or literature, but anyway, there's this line, 'Sleeping in mine orchard, a serpent stung me.' So there, you've got this dangling participle of 'sleeping', it's describing what's happening, but you're left being all like, 'what? Who's sleeping, they're in an orchard?' But if he'd said, 'I was sleeping in mine orchard, a serpent stung me' it would be all good because you give a subject for the participle to hang on to, but I mean he's Shakespeare, so he can dangle whatever he wants to. Makes sense?"

"I… think so…"

"Cool, well give that bad boy a subject to hang on to, I'm gonna go smoke a cigarette and then I'll come see how you're doing."

"Can you see if John's almost done with dinner, too."

"You got it."

I left the study and found John setting the table for three, looking disappointed, "Laf's not coming, I guess he's sick."

"Bummer, he okay?" That weasely little Frenchman, I shook my head and restrained a laugh.

"I guess he's fine, supposed to be there in the morning. How's the paper going?"

"It makes me question the entire South Carolinian school system, but comforts me to know that your being terrible at English isn't just your problem. Gonna step out for a minute."

"Cool, dinner's almost ready."

I nodded and stepped out onto the balcony, pulling out my phone to scroll Twitter, Lafayette had texted me earlier,  **I said I was sick, too nervous I'll spoil everything, see you tomorrow!**

I shook my head and laughed around the cigarette in between my lips, Lafayette made himself incredibly scarce this week after almost ruining the surprise on three separate occasions. John noticed his absence and was in a pissy mood.

After my cigarette, I took a final glance at the edits that Polly had made to her paper, agreeing we'd finish going over it later in the evening. We settled around the table for dinner.

"I can't believe he didn't come to see you off." John stabbed a piece of broccoli a little too hard.

"It's really okay, Jack, he said he was gonna come to the airport tomorrow and see me off then." Polly smiled sympathetically.

"He just isn't feeling that great, this shitty weather does it to everyone, it's okay." I tried to reassure him, working over my lip between my teeth to try and keep from either cracking a smile at the secret that would come to fruition in just over a dozen hours or ruining the surprise just to wipe the hurt off his face.

"Still, he could come feel shitty here. We have a couch… I made dinner."

I texted Lafayette under the table,  **John is so pissed at you, have fun apologizing tomorrow.**

He texted me back quickly,  **oh no, remind him I am a good person, I just have a very large mouth.**

I responded,  **big mouth, Laf, it's just a coincidence that you have a large mouth.**

"Work bugging you? I thought the office was closed." John knit his eyebrows and looked at the phone in my hand.

"It's nothing, querido." I nudged his calf with the side of my foot.

John stared at his plate and Polly shot me a glance, lips pursed tightly to keep from smiling. I held her glance, willing her to be strong and keep it together. Knowing that we had an early start we all went to bed pretty quickly once the dishes from dinner had been washed. Out of earshot of John I agreed to finish helping her with her paper once we were all back in South Carolina.

"Still can't believe Laf didn't come over, Polly barely got to see him this whole trip, she hasn't gotten to see him in years."

"I know, he's just not feeling good. She'll see him tomorrow."

"Yeah, if he shows."

"Oh, stop, he'll show, I've never ever known him to let you down before now."

"I know. I'm just sad, too, because Polly has to go home, and I just wish I could see everyone else. Christmas sucks."

"You're in quite the mood tonight."

"I'm sorry, I'll shape up, just a weird time of year."

I thought of my own sordid history with the holiday and agreed with him, "it is, but we get to have our first Christmas together."

"I think you'll like what I got you." His voice lightened.

"I think you'll like what I got you, too." I agreed, biting hard on my lip to shut myself up.

"Ugh, I wish Polly could stay longer," John laughed to himself.

"What?" I asked in response to his fit of giggles.

"I was just remembering this one Christmas, it was so bad, everything went wrong. I don't think Polly had even come along yet, but all us kids had strep throat, Martha had the flu too, our dog knocked over the Christmas tree, it was a mess. Miss Bette burned the turkey while she and my mom were trying to clean up the Christmas tree and tend to us kids."

"Who's Miss Bette? You've never mentioned her before."

"She was one of our… I guess like governesses or nannies or maids or something, dad always hired staff for the household even though mom hated it, wanted to run her own house. Miss Bette was nice, though, she made really good PB & Js. After Miss Susie retired when I was like fifteen or sixteen, he didn't hire anyone else. I thought it was normal growing up."

"Damn, y'all on some 'Get Out' next level bullshit... governesses." I chuckled.

"I didn't like how my dad treated them… or anyone else really, but they were nice ladies."

"You grew up a million worlds away from me, John."

"Then it's even more amazing that I found you. I'd cross a million more worlds for you."


	10. Chapter 10

I tried to sound sad as we finished packing Polly up, bright and early, I was nursing a cup of coffee, buzzing from the excitement and the rush of caffeine. John moped about as he collected odds and ends of her belongings. I grabbed my satchel and stepped into my shoes before gulping down the rest of my coffee.

"You want your go-mug?" John asked from the kitchen.

"Nope, I'm okay." I responded, really wanting it, but not wanting the TSA to fuss over the likelihood of it being a bomb.

"Are they all dirty?"

"Yup!" I said insistently, I wasn't sure, but I didn't want any fuss over his, either.

He appeared from the kitchen, holding a mug of still-steeping tea, "damn, I wanted to bring my tea."

"Bummer."

Lafayette let himself in, looking more comfortable than usual in a pair of joggers and a sweatshirt. It fit with his whole, 'not feeling well' schtick, "good morning, mes amies!"

"Hey, Laf." I waved.

John almost rolled his eyes, and mumbled a, "hi."

Polly appeared, suitcase in hand.

"Ready to go?" I asked the room.

They all confirmed.

"You really need your bag, Alex?" John questioned, tugging at the strap of my messenger bag where it hung on my chest.

"Yes." I said a little too quickly.

He glanced at the backpack Lafayette had slung across his back and furrowed his brow and looked at me curiously before shrugging. I made sure all of the lights were off and locked up behind us. John helped Polly with her bag.

On the train, Polly took a few final pictures of the city and made small talk with Lafayette about what all she'd done over the course of the week.

We made it to Laguardia, the omnipresent flood of travelers a disorienting headrush. John let out a heavy sigh and wrapped Polly up in a big hug once we got to gate.

"You have your ticket?" He asked her.

"Oh no!" She cried, putting forth an Oscar-worthy performance, she knit her brows together, mouth popping into a shocked 'o'.

"I've got it," I patted her shoulder, trying to look reassuring and casual as I reached into my bag, and pulled the papers out from where they were nestled just beside my laptop. I looked at them with concern and then stared into John's face, trying to convey puzzlement.

"What's the matter?" John asked, his face evolving.

"It's just so weird," I started, and stepped closer to him so he could see the papers, I looked over my shoulder at him, "there's four tickets here."

"...What?" I watched the wheels spin in his mind, gears cranking to try and make sense of the information.

"I'm taking you home for Christmas, querido." I said it quietly, almost a secret between us.

"What?" His eyes lit up, shimmering.

I nodded, "merry Christmas, mi amor. Te amo."

"Alexander." He gasped, throwing his arms around me.

"I'm coming as well." Lafayette tapped him on the shoulder.

"Seriously?" His mouth hung on a broken hinge.

"Seriously."

"That's why you've been so weird! You're not sick at all, you just know what a blabbermouth you are!" He slapped Lafayette's arm playfully.

Lafayette nodded, grinning guiltily.

"This is amazing… but we don't have any clothes or anything."

"Taken care of." I smiled.

"Patsy picked up our luggage from the post office, we shipped everything that you will need." Lafayette informed him.

He hunched forward in surprise, "are you serious? You really did all this?"

I nodded and pulled him back into a hug, "I figured the best gift I could give you was your family, I know it's been a long time since you've had Christmas with them… and well, you're welcome this year, so I figured we should take advantage of that."

"This is the best gift ever, I love you so much."

"I love you, too. Now come on, we don't want to just stand here."

We made it through security, unsurprised when Lafayette was 'randomly' selected for a second pass of the wand. Boarding was quick, I'd opted for Business Class on the sheer premise that I couldn't tolerate shelling out for first class, but it was still nicer than economy. On the plane, I sat beside John, Lafayette and Polly in the row in front of us.

"Am I the last to know?" John asked.

"Sure are, everyone else was in on it." I swallowed, my knee bouncing of its own volition.

"I can't believe you pulled this off, I'm such an ass, I was so mean to Laf."

Lafayette looked at us between the seats, "you were."

"Sorry… you still love me."

"Aren't you lucky for that?"

"Whatever."

I halfway listened to the safety procedures and tried to keep my breathing even.

"You doing alright?" John rubbed circles across my boxy kneecap.

I pressed my lips into a tight smile, "fun fact, statistically speaking, passengers in a devastating plane crash have a 24% chance of dying."

"You and I have very different ideas of what the term 'fun fact' means, but I'm sure we'll be fine."

"I have a more comprehensive grasp on the English language, we'll go with my definition... Let's hope that this isn't flight 1.2 million."

"What?"

"Well, that's the odds of plane crashes, one in 1.2 million. Hopefully this isn't 1.2 million."

"You have plane crash statistics memorized?"

"Looked them up again the other night, memorized them then, wanted to make sure the data was the same. Did you know that over 300 people have died in plane crashes in the last two years alone?"

"Alex, you're okay. We're totally safe." We started moving and I felt less inclined to believe him.

"I mean, we're safe now, it's the descent you have to watch out for, that's when 47% of crashes happen, they're the most lethal ones, too."

"I'm totally revoking your internet privileges when we get home." My hand found his as we made our initial climb.

The flight was uneventful, no dying happened, not even a crash, Lafayette and Polly slept the whole ride. Martha picked us up from the airport, we climbed into her Range Rover, John taking the middle seat in the back between me and Polly, Lafayette rode up front, chatting with Martha for the entire journey out of the city and to their country home. John beamed, face split in two by his grin.

I leaned over and whispered in his ear, "you happy, querido?"

He nodded vigorously. We got to the Laurens estate, car rolling down the long drive before we came to a stop. Harry waited on the front porch, Ellie running the length of the wood planks, tagging between the two swings. She was bigger and faster.

John tackled Harry into a hug and stooped to talk to the baby who looked at him suspiciously, she pushed past him and grabbed at the leg of my jeans, I bent down to talk to her and she grinned, looking at John and pointing at me.

"I know, I know, he's your buddy, I'm chopped liver." John smirked.

Ellie raised her arms to me, I obliged and picked her up, she tangled her little fingers in my hair, "how you been, chiquita?"

She looked into my eyes and babbled an unintelligible response.

"Hmm, sounds like you've been keeping busy. Any thoughts on the stock market?"

Drool dribbled down her chin and she chewed a finger contemplatively before babbling again.

"Definitely agree, the Dow's in rough shape." I nodded.

She rubbed her cheek against my beard and giggled before shimmying down to the ground again.

"She's so big!" John squealed to Martha.

"Told you, it's crazy, she turned two and bam, just over night, she's not my baby anymore." Martha agreed. We went inside - the house looking more lived in, less pristine and terrifying since I'd last seen it - and found Jem lounging on the couch, playing his Nintendo Switch.

"'Sup, loser? Mr. I'm way too cool to say hi to my brother." John threw his hip into Jem's shoulder.

"Hey, Jack… Alexander… You're still around," He sounded almost surprised,  _can't get rid of me that easily, asshole,_  "congrats. No one else has ever been able to tolerate my brother for this long."

"Hi Jem, while I can commiserate the struggle, I plan on tolerating him for a very long time." I smirked at him.

Lafayette was still talking to Martha, Ellie was bewildered by him, his glasses now covered in her fingerprints.

"So, Jack, you really didn't know?" Harry was behind us.

"Not a clue til this morning." He confirmed.

"Well played, Hamilton!" Harry high fived me.

"Thanks, Lafayette's the one who had trouble keeping the secret."

"Doesn't surprise me. Dude's never been good at secrets…" he shot a glance at Lafayette, "have you?"

Lafayette's cheeks burned, "I didn't mean it!"

"What?" I looked between them, stuck in the dark.

"You want to tell it or should I?" Harry asked him.

"You can." Lafayette hung his head and freed a coil of hair from Ellie's grasp.

"So, Lafayette was a good kid, right? Until big bad New York City got a hold of him, but growing up, he was a pure little dude. There was this one night where me and Jack snuck out and went to a party, and well-"

John cut in, "-it's the night I totalled the Mercedes."

"Harry was with you? What was he, like 12?" I looked on in horror between the two of them.

"I was 13, but hey, shit gets weird when your mom dies."

"Fair." I agreed and listened to the rest of the story.

"But Laf told our dad about it." John got back to the story

"Snitch." Harry crossed his arms.

"It's a good thing, too! You both could have died." Lafayette countered from his place on the couch.

"But we didn't!" John reminded him.

"I mean, dad almost killed us." Harry laughed.

"Oh, shut up, punk, you mean dad almost killed me, you were still the golden boy… next to Jemmy anyway, he didn't like you hanging around me all the time," John put his back against Harry's and rocked side to side, like a bear trying to scratch an itch against a tree, "afraid I'd rub all the gay off on you. C'mere, need to give you some of my gay."

Harry slammed his back against John, their heads clacking together, John rubbed the back of his head and turned around to properly shove Harry. Lafayette and I exchanged horrified glances at the impressive show of sibling rivalry. Harry  _accidentally_ kneed John between the legs, he dropped to his knees and doubled over, the wind knocked out of him, he lunged his arm out and one knuckle punched Harry in the thigh. Harry's leg went out and he braced himself against the couch.

"Gentlemen!" Martha boomed, the hair on the back of my neck prickled at her tone.

"Sorry, Pats." John's voice was higher than I'd ever heard it.

"Sorry." Each syllable drug out in Harry's somber voice, he rubbed his thigh and offered a hand to John. They grinned at each other as John let his brother help him up.

"Fuckin' losers," Jem muttered and excused himself upstairs.

John and Harry stuck their tongues out in his direction once his back was turned.

Martha bounced Ellie on her knees and cooed in sing song, "you're gonna need so much therapy when you grow up."

"It's not so bad." I offered, earning a smile from John.

John leaned against the back of the couch shaking a leg out, trying to adjust his abused manhood inconspicuously. I offered a sympathetic smirk and he joined me on the couch opposite of the one Lafayette and Martha sat on, laying his legs across my lap.

"You two did not make it hard to be the good one." Lafayette mused at the two boys.

"I can only imagine what it was like." I empathized with him.

Ellie slid off Martha's lap and banged on the tv cabinet, "M'ana! M'ana!"

"No, baby, no Moana right now, maybe later, it's almost time for nap." Martha calmed her.

Ellie knit her eyebrows together and stamped her tiny foot, "No! M'ana!"

"Sorry, not right now, love."

Big tears rolled down Ellie's cheeks and she shrieked, "M'ana now, mama!"

"No ma'am, looks like it's naptime now, since we can't be kind," she picked her daughter up, "tell uncle John and Alexander you'll see them later, and maybe if we can be kind after nap we'll watch. Let's go."

Ellie sobbed as she was carted away to her room. John and I exchanged pouts empathizing with the baby's outburst.

"She is precious." Lafayette sighed.

"Damn, I was kinda ready to watch Moana again." I admitted.

John shot me a surprised look.

"What? Songs are fucking catchy." I shrugged.

"So when y'all gonna start having babies?" Harry asked.

Lafayette's brows made a mad dash toward his hairline in surprise.

"Uh… Well… I don't… We've only…" John stammered, "we haven't been together that long."

"Just curious, Alexander's so good with Ellie I figured you guys would be in a rush to start giving Ellie cousins. Jack's always wanted to be a dad, did you know that Alexander?"

I smirked at John, his ears growing bright red, "I had a hunch."

"Sure be a better dad than ours was, Jackie!"

"Like that's hard." John grumbled. I rubbed his legs, trying to reassure him.

"You want to be a dad?" Harry looked at me.

Lafayette's eyes darkened, lashes falling over them as he looked at the ground, suddenly finding his thumbnail very interesting, confirming my suspicion that John talked to him about my past, I didn't mind, knew from the jump that they were a packaged deal.

I bit my lip, hands hesitating from rubbing John's shin, fingers twitching for a cigarette, "someday."

John's lips twitched in a tiny smile, he looked at me with secret, hopeful eyes.


End file.
